


Confession in Desperation

by orpheous87



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarropoly: A Drarry Game/Fest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 01:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17112221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orpheous87/pseuds/orpheous87
Summary: Title: Confession in DesperationAuthor/Artist: Orpheous87 (Team Nimbus 2000)Rating: PGBoard Position(or card image): Time TurnerPrompt: Choose a scene from the books and rewrite it differently - 999 words or lessWord Count: 902 wordsSummary: Draco Malfoy has a funny way of asking for help.Disclaimer: Characters belong to JK Rowling. I'm just borrowing them and promise to return them unscathed.





	Confession in Desperation

“You go on,” Malfoy told Pansy as she waited for him with her hand held out, expecting him to hold it. “I just need to check something.” 

Pansy left and Harry was left alone with Malfoy. Not that Malfoy knew he was there, he thought. He watched as Malfoy pulled the blinds down, hiding the compartment from any prying eyes. He continued to watch as the other boy opened his trunk. 

Harry peered over the edge of the luggage rack. Would he find out what it was that Malfoy was trying to mend? he wondered. 

_”Petrificus Totalus!”_

Harry suddenly felt how Neville must have felt in first year as he toppled from the luggage rack. Malfoy hadn’t given him any hint that he’d known he was there, so hearing the incantation was a bit of a shock. He was oddly relieved that he was paralysed when he crashed to the floor a second later. At least he didn’t have the breath knocked out of him. 

“I knew it,” Malfoy said with a triumphant grin. “I thought I saw something flash past me while Zabini and Goyle were wrestling. Plus, I heard Goyle’s trunk hit you,” he added with a shrug. “Invisibility Cloaks don’t make you any less solid. Now, why would you be hiding in here, spying on me, I wonder?” 

Harry could do nothing but gaze up at Malfoy, his legs still curled in their kneeling position in front of him. 

“I suppose you heard what we were talking about,” Malfoy continued thoughtfully. “I probably should be more bothered about that. But you’d be surprised.” 

Malfoy sat back down and regarded Harry carefully. “You think you’ve got it hard, Potter,” he began. “Yeah, I’m sure being Dumbledore’s favourite must be really tough. They’re saying you’re The Chosen One. Well guess what, so am I. It’s me versus you, Potter.” 

Harry still gazed passively up at Malfoy. Inside, his heart was racing. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Watching Malfoy, though, Harry couldn’t help but think the blonde didn’t seem especially thrilled with being chosen for whatever he’d been chosen for. He wished desperately that he could speak to Malfoy. 

Malfoy grimaced slightly. “You’d think I’d be happy about taking you on again wouldn’t you?” he said softly. “I _should_ be happy about it. Everyone _thinks_ I’m happy about it. But you know what, Potter? I’m _not_ happy. Not even a little bit. All that you just heard? Pretence. I’m _terrified_ , Potter. Because if I fail… if I fail, I’m dead. And so, probably, are my parents.” 

Malfoy paused, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He didn’t even know why he was telling Potter all of this. He knew that Potter would run straight to Dumbledore as soon as they got to the school, but he thought that might be his only hope. After the things he’d heard at home during the summer, he’d realised that his father’s beliefs may not be right after all. It had been a bitter pill to swallow, that his father, who he’d always looked up to, had put his trust in the wrong man, but swallow it he had. He knew he didn’t want the life his father had had - look where it had landed him. He wanted to _live_ and he thought that, perhaps, Potter and Dumbledore _were_ the ones to trust after all. 

“I suppose you’d be happy if that were to happen though,” Malfoy continued with a sigh. He knew time was running out, that the train would be leaving soon. “You’d never have to see me again. I know Granger and Weasley would be happy about it.”

Harry listened, his mind racing as much as his heart. Was Malfoy trying to ask for help? he wondered. _Could_ Harry help? Did he _want_ to help? 

“I know you have no reason to want to help me, Potter,” Malfoy said suddenly, as though reading his thoughts. “Merlin knows I’ve never given you one, but I hope that this little insight will make you consider it. I don’t want to die, Potter. Not yet. I’ve got too much to put right,” he finished, his voice cracking slightly. 

Malfoy sounded so sincere, and so desperate, Harry thought, that he knew one thing. He did want to help. He wanted to give Malfoy a second chance. 

Malfoy stood up again, moving to stand over Harry with an apologetic look on his face. “I’m sorry about this, Potter,” he whispered. “But I need to keep my cover, you understand?” With that, he stamped hard on Harry’s face, feeling the Gryffindor’s nose break under his foot. He turned and left the compartment without looking back, but Harry heard a whispered _”Finite Incantatem”_ as the door slid closed again. 

Sitting up, Harry clutched his nose, trying to stem the flow of blood. His heart was pounding in his chest as he processed everything he’d just heard from Malfoy. He was thankful that the blonde hadn’t left him paralysed on the train but he couldn’t help but wonder if everything he’d said was true. He heard a loud whistle and struggled to his feet, grabbing his Invisibility Cloak with one hand and continuing to hold his nose with the other. He had to get off the train and, if possible, find Malfoy before they got to the school. They definitely had more than a few things to discuss.


End file.
